Gemotions

He stared out the window, the city lights blurring through the rain-streaked glass. The lawyer’s words echoed in his head: “Your father… a son, born out of wedlock.” David clenched his fists. It was a lie. A fabrication. His father, a man of unwavering morals, would never do such a thing.

His jaw ached from the effort of holding his teeth together. He considered calling the lawyer, demanding proof, but he immediately shook his head. He wouldn't dignify the claims with a response. He would pretend it hadn’t happened. He would go on with his life as if nothing had changed. The rain continued its relentless drumming, mirroring the relentless beat of his own defiance.